


love & liquor

by writingstudent



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23426005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingstudent/pseuds/writingstudent
Summary: You have a few too many drinks on a quiet night and you spill your feelings out to Geralt, which you had been too scared to say out loud before.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 111





	love & liquor

**Author's Note:**

> You can buy me a coffee and support my work at: https://ko-fi.com/writingstudent  
> Accepting commissions - message me on tumblr for more information: https://writingstudent.tumblr.com/

You sipped languidly on a glass of rum, letting its contents lightly burn a path down your throat. A few months ago you would have winced at the sensation and opted for wine instead. Much had changed in those few months. You had met Geralt. It started out with you paying for safe passage across a mountain, whose reigning forests were known for the monsters that lay in them. When you had heard that the Witcher was headed down that path you jumped at the opportunity of leaving your quiet town and having a devilishly handsome travel companion only spurred you on. During the cold nights spent together, nearing the peak of the mountain, you learned to appreciate the warmth of rum. The way the liquor smoothly ran down your throat and made you sweetly dizzy. You loved the soft rocking sensation when you closed your eyes, leaving you in quiet disoriented giggles. You imagined that this was what being at sea felt like. Peaceful abandon. In your surrender you had kissed the Witcher, silencing one of his disgruntled rumblings and catching him by surprise. What ensued made you wish you had done it sooner. Nights spent together took on a different meaning, and you looked forward to set camp again each time you set out.

The floor to your inn room squeaked open and you heard heavy footsteps tread in. You lolled your head to the side, smiling and trying to get a better look at the welcomed guest. You admired his silver locks and the way his golden eyes warmed in the firelight.

“Hello, dove.”

Your smile could not get any bigger. Thank gods you had asked him to keep traveling with him.

His guarded expression melted at the sight of the condition you were in. He loved listening to your incoherent rambles whenever you would drink. It was as if your mind raced too quickly for your mouth, making you string words together as you jumped from one idea to another. His smile made your heart flutter so dangerously against your ribcage that you had to put your hand on your chest to stop it from leaping out. You cared for the man in front of you more than you would like to admit. More than he would probably be comfortable with.

You lazily watched him take off his armor. The moment seemed timeless – when had he neatly folded it on the nightstand?

All of a sudden he was there. Crouched in front of your legs, large warm palms almost swallowing your thighs whole. And his eyes, fuck, his eyes. They were bright ashes, swirling as they rose through the air and drew closer to your face. You leaned forward, entranced, but the rum had other thoughts and you smacked foreheads lightly, making Geralt chuckle. You giggled back, the sound making your heart beat wildly again. Geralt seemed to notice, and a confident smirk around drawled on his face as he glanced to your chest. You were still holding your heart.

“My little bird.” He hummed. Your lips parted slightly and eyes stared up at him in adoration and amazement. The Witcher was a living contradiction. He was soft and hard at the same time. Dominant but preferred being the little spoon. His hair was in the half—up braid you had made that morning for him, pieces of it falling out in the most picturesque way, framing his harsh features. He could not have looked more perfect had he tried to.

“Thank you.” For letting me in. For showing me what you don’t let anyone else see. For brushing my hair in the morning as I wake up, showing you’re still there. For not leaving.

Geralt quirked up an eyebrow in amused confusion.

“I haven’t don’t anything dove” You felt calloused fingers trace the edge of your skirts and start to creep upwards, warming your skin. “…yet.” He finished with a wolfish grin.

You giggled again at the giant crouched in front of you, and yelped when he suddenly had you in his arms and made his way towards the bed, sending your world spinning, His lips were on yours.

Hot, wet open-mouthed kisses devoured the column of your throat, teasing you with bites that would sure leave blooming bruises the next day. You sighed, melting against his strong embrace as he sat on the edge of the bed, moving you to his lap. He looked up to you and the feral glint in his eyes softened slightly. You leaned into him, breathless, parting your lips to a soft open-mouthed kiss. His tongue brushed past your lips hotly and you hummed. Your hands were in his hair, gripping the nape of his neck making him growl.

“I want you.”

The words slipped past your lips with no hesitation. There was no uncertainty. You felt the corners of his mouth quirk upwards as he brought you back into the kiss with renewed vigor, teeth clashing with urgency. Your hands moved under his shirt to explore his toned chest, fingers slipping through the short curls around his pendant. Your chest felt as if it were about to burst, heart hammering incessantly against your fragile ribcage. Was it the drink or his shouldering gaze that made you swoon. You pulled away, slightly overwhelmed, and shifted in his lap. The Witcher looked at you with concern and ran a hand through your hair soothingly.

“Alright, dove? ”

His dark eyebrows were pulled together, pinching the skin between them lightly. His voice rumbled warmly.

“We can go to bed now, don’t worry.” He assured you, a selfless soft smile on his face. You gulped.

“No, I - ” You stuttered.

“Geralt I - ”

His eyes lit up at the soft mention of his name and you spilled your heart, which was overwhelmed with emotion.

“I want you. I want you Geralt, so bad it hurts. Not just now. Every waking moment. I want you there when I go to bed, wrapped around you, and I want to wake up tangled in your hair. I want you to tell me off for sneaking Roach too many apples and to grunt and roll your eyes at mane whenever I ask to take you to an inn to sing and dance.”

Your hands flailed around wildly and you could barely catch your breath between your words. He stayed motionless.

“I want you to stay with me - ”

You took a deep breath. What the fuck were you doing?

“-forever.” You finished off, almost shyly.

You felt yourself sober, adrenaline how rushing through your system. You were hyper-aware of his stillness and you couldn’t bear to tear your eyes from his chest. You felt his calloused fingers trail towards your chin tentatively.

“You’re drunk Y/N, you don’t - ”

“Please don’t say that.” It hurt to hear him deny that someone could ever love him. He was always so quick to push away people. The Witcher took in a deep breath, and you felt his fingers shake lightly. Time ticked by.

“Do you mean it?” He breathed so quietly you almost didn’t catch his question. You looked up, meeting his worried eyes. He chewed on his lip nervously, and in that moment you wanted to murder everyone who had hurt him. Geralt never looked so small.

“More than anything.” You breathed, heart steadying. He smiled timidly.

“I want you too.”


End file.
